Chapter Two.

I don't know how much later it is when I come to. The first thing I register is the throbbing in my head. The second is the thick straps tied tightly around my wrists and ankles. I immediately begin to panic, but before I can utter a scream a hand closes over my mouth.

Peeta's face looms into my line of vision. He's smirking slightly, and he removes his hand just long enough to shove a wad of fabric in my mouth. I reflexively try to spit it back out, but I only end up gagging myself.

"Now, now," he says. "Don't get yourself worked up, Katniss."

I send him my fiercest glare, and he chuckles.

"Whhmph mmph hm dmmph," I try to say. Peeta pulls up a chair and takes a seat, and it's then that I realize that I'm on his bed. The thought makes me blush, and I curse myself for having such a ridiculous reaction.

"What am I doing?" Peeta asks, understanding my question. He leans back in the chair and tilts his head as he looks at me. "Why, I'm taking back control."

My eyes widen and I frantically glance around the room. For what? I chastise myself. You're tied up and gagged. Peeta's guards are unconscious. No one knows you're here.

"Don't work yourself into a fit, Katniss," Peeta says. "You're no use to me if you're in a state."

"Fmmp hmmph."

"Fuck me, huh?" Peeta throws back his head in laughter. "All in due time."

There was no winning with this Peeta. To gain any leverage, I have to do it his way. I slump against the pillows, averting my eyes.

"What's wrong, Girl On Fire? Did someone douse your flames?"

Not quite, I think. But I don't look at Peeta. I train my gaze on his knees and remain silent.

"Oh, I see." He grips my chin and forces me to look up. I try and look past his head, but he moves his face so close to mine that I can feel his breath on my nose, giving me no choice but to stare directly at him. "You think that if you're quiet I'll free your mouth."

I stay absolutely still, searching his narrowed eyes. They are the same Merchant blue that I remember, but they are lacking the light behind them that make them his. Now his eyes are cold, dull. Almost dead. The thought makes me want to be sick.

Suddenly, the fabric is gone from my mouth and I lurch forward, coughing and smacking my tongue, trying to rid my mouth of the taste. "What was that?" I spit.

Peeta holds up the slightly damp object. "My sock," he says with a smirk.

Not sure if he's joking or not, I attempt to lean over and glance at his feet, but the restraints prevent me from doing so. But Peeta lifts his leg and places it on the bed, his bare foot in plain sight. I gag a bit, and I don't miss his satisfied grin.

"The real you wouldn't do that," I say before I can stop myself. Peeta's face falls and he waves the sock in my face. I twist away as much as I can, clamping my lips tightly together.

"That's what I thought," he snaps. "Now watch what you say before I shove something bigger in that filthy mouth of yours."

Bigger? It takes me a moment to understand his reference. When I do, I can feel my face ignite. Oh. He means his...

"How long have I been out?" I say, desperate to change the topic. "What did you do to me?"

"Only a few minutes," he says, much to my surprise. "All it took was a bit of pressure-" he leaned forward and tapped the space behind my jaw and beneath my ear-"and you were out like a light. It only works for a few minutes at most. Just enough time for me to secure you so you can't hurt me."

I try to ignore the flash of pain I feel at his accusation. "Then why does my head hurt?" I ask.

"I may have hit your head on the table as I carried you to the bed." Peeta's only attempt at an apology is a half-hearted shrug. "Wasn't my intention."

"Sure," I scoff.

"I don't want to hurt you." His voice is genuine, and for a brief second I catch a glimpse of the old Peeta, my Peeta. It vanishes and Capitol Peeta returns when he says, "I just want to kill you sometimes."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"Oh, no, Katniss," he assures me, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "Hurting someone and killing someone are two very different things. In fact, one might say that the latter is almost an act of kindness."

I can see his point. I am beginning to wish that someone had picked me off during our first round in the Games. Both of us, even. It would have saved a lot of lives and a lot of trouble.

"So what about the guards?" I ask, trying to waste time. They're bound to either wake up or be found any minute. Our time is nearly up. "What did you do to them?"

"I learned a few tricks while I was in the Capitol," he says. His body suddenly tenses, and I know the conversation is over. He stands and crosses the room, running his hands through his hair.

"Peeta?"

"Shut up!" he snaps.

"What's wrong?" I ask. He starts pacing, one bare foot and one clothed one slapping against the tile floor. His breaths are coming in heavy pants that are making me more nervous with each one. He looks like he's about to snap, and I am completely vulnerable to his rage.

"Look at you," he spits at me. "A filthy mutt tied up like a fucking whore. I bet you even like it."

My heart stutters, and I try to ignore his words. "Peeta, calm down."

"Do I need to gag you again?" he shouts. "Or do you want my cock this time?"

I cannot hide the squeak that escapes me at his vulgarity. The noise shocks him, and he stops pacing for a moment. I jump on my chance and speak again.

"Peeta Mellark, take a deep breath. I'm not going to hurt you."

He collapses onto his knees, burying his face in his hands, rocking back in forth. I don't know what to do. He begins muttering things, slurred phrases I can barely make out. I hear my name, a few foul words, the occasional 'no'. He looks absolutely insane.

"How did you know I would come?" I say suddenly. Peeta looks up from his rocking but doesn't stop. "Peeta? You knocked out your guards, you hid and waited for me to come into your room. How did you know I would come?"

"I-I don't-"

"It's because you know me," I insist, straining forward. I can feel the blood trickling down my arms from how hard I am tugging at the restraints but I don't care. "You know me, Peeta. You knew that I would feel bad about what happened and would come to apologize. You know me better than anyone, Peeta, and you know that I won't hurt you."

His rocking slowly comes to a stop. "You won't...hurt me?"

"No, Peeta," I say, surprised to feel tears pricking at my eyes. "I won't hurt you. I'll never hurt you."

It's a promise I know I shouldn't have made, but is has the effect I wanted. Peeta's breathing returns to normal and he stands, albeit unsteadily, and makes his way back to the bed.

"How do I know you're not lying?" he asks, trailing a hand up my leg. I tense as he squeezes my thigh.

"You don't," I breathe. "You just need to trust me."

"Trust you?" The words look like they hurt coming out of his mouth. "Trust you."

I stay as still as I can as he studies me. His eyes trail over my face, down my neck, linger on my chest, and then continue down my stomach and legs. His hand twitches, and before I can blink he lurches forward and roughly unties the binds on my left wrist.

"Go," he spits, turning his back. "Before I change my mind."

He doesn't have to tell me twice. I quickly free my other wrist and, ignoring the searing pain from my open wounds, practically rip open the bindings on my ankles. Peeta flinches away from me as I move towards the door, and I pause.

"Peeta..."

"What?" he snaps.

"I am sorry," I say, "for what happened last night. And if you'll have me, I'd like to help you get better."

He studies me, pursing his lips and wringing his hands. Finally, he gives me a curt nod, and as I fly out the door, I swear I catch a glimpse of a smile.

Haymitch pulls me aside at breakfast. I follow him from the table put keep a firm grip on my bowl of oatmeal. We lean against the wall of the dining hall, away from the prying ears of Thirteen's population.

"Where did you escape to last night, sweetheart?"

I pull down the sleeves of my shirt to cover the bandages I had wrapped around my wrist. "Escape?"

"Don't play dumb with me, I know you weren't in your room."

"And how do you know that?" I ask through a spoonful of oatmeal. "Did you pay me a visit?"

Haymitch grabs me by the arm and yanks the spoon away from my mouth. Oatmeal splashes onto the front of my shirt and I gasp in pain as his hand brushes my wrist. He notices my reaction and yanks my sleeve up my arm.

"What happened here?" he murmured. "Don't tell me our Mockingjay tried to-"

"I didn't try to kill myself," I snapped. "You know me better than that."

"Are you serious?" Haymitch scoffs. "I've only known you for about two years and you've tried to off yourself about three times."

"But this wasn't one of them, so can we move on, please?" I yanked my arm back and frowned at the stain on my shirt.

"Sure. Let's talk about how instead of going hunting today you're going to be meeting with Plutarch."

"What?" I exclaim. "That's not fair! I'm supposed to go with Gale today-"

"You should've thought of that before blowing him off last night," Haymitch says with a smirk. "He's expecting you in an hour, sweetheart."

He pats my cheek and sticks a grubby finger in my oatmeal for a scoop before walking away, chuckling to himself. I head back over to my table and give the rest of my breakfast to Johanna, who doesn't seem the least bit deterred my Haymitch's finger germs. I explain my situation to Gale, who seems less than thrilled, but doesn't disagree with my mentor.

"I told you that you had to meet with him," he points out.

"Shut up," I growl. I catch Madge smiling, and it strikes me then how much I miss hearing her voice. Mine softens as I speak to her. "How are you, Madge?"

She shrugs and Gale presses a kiss to her forehead. "We're getting better," he answers for her. I notice a small notebook on the table and nod to it.

"You've been using that?"

Madge perks up suddenly, as if just remembering it was there. She flips it open and hurriedly begins to scribble on the pages. When she's done, she holds it up to me with a proud smile.

I'm getting better. I'm just so thankful to be alive. Gale is helping me a lot.

What you're doing is so amazing, Katniss. I think you've been an inspiration since you first volunteered for Prim and I want to help in any way that I can.

"Oh, Madge," I sigh. "I'm so happy that you're here."

She's intelligent, she's kind, she has a reason to despise the Capitol. The rebellion could definitely use her. Plus, she likes me, and I can use all the friends I can get right now.

I hear him approach as I slid my tray along the metal rack, trying not to grimace as Greasy Sae slops a dinner of colorless stew with what looks like potatoes into my bowl. He joins me in line and holds his tray out as well.

"Hello," Peeta says, and I'm shocked by the gentle tone of his voice. I glance up in surprise to find him wearing a sheepish grin. "How's your head?"

I suppose that's his best attempt at an apology. At least the throbbing is almost gone. "I've had worse," I tell him. We are both issued a slice of bread. "How's yours?"

He chuckles. "I've been better."

I notice his guards trailing us as we approach the table. They aren't his usual ones, and for a brief second my gut twists with worry that he had inflicted permanent injury. "Who are they?"

"My new watchdogs," he says with a grim smile. "My old ones were relieved of their duty after they were found...sleeping on the job."

"Oh?"

"You don't know how lucky we are that I was fast asleep also," Peeta says in mock seriousness. "I could have been out inflicting some serious damage."

I surprise the both of us by bursting out in a fit of laughter. I get some strange looks as we take our seats at the table, but I pay them no mind.

"Well," Finnick says, "I'll have what you two are having."

"Same here," Johanna murmurs, arching an eyebrow. "You two look like you're on some kind of morphling high." As an afterthought, she adds, "Or just reveling in the afterglow of a good fuck."

I choke on my water, and Gale as to thump me on the back a few times before I can breathe again. Peeta is staring at me strangely, and I avert my eyes.

"Hey now, Jo, let's not give them any ideas," Finnick says.

"We didn't- I haven't- We're not-" I stutter, trying to defend myself. Madge gently squeezes my arm and gives me a sympathetic smile.

"We know," Annie says softly. "Don't let them work you up, Katniss."

"Excuse me," Peeta mutters, standing up. "I-I need to get out of here."

His guards materialize and grip him by the elbows. Instead of fighting them, he lets them lead him away without struggle. He starts muttering to himself again, and I hear my name and the word 'baby'. My stomach plummets.

"Was it something we said?" Johanna asks brusquely.

"Yes," I snap. "It was something you said."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really," I say, not hiding the venom in my voice. "Do you realize what you've done? You of all people know best what the Capitol did to him. He's still incredibly confused about everything, and you sit here talking about...that? For all I know, he probably believes I actually was pregnant and that I killed the baby!"

"Calm down, Brainless," Johanna scoffs. "Did you see him? He looked like he was handling himself. He probably got a little too excited at the idea of you two rolling around in the sheets and had to leave before everyone saw his little man standing to attention."

"Do you have to be so crude?" Gale says exasperatedly.

"You love it, Gorgeous." Johanna blows him a kiss, and Madge tenses.

"I can't believe you," I mutter, putting my silverware down and pushing my chair back. It seems that I can never finish a meal lately.

"Hey, Katniss, don't go," Finnick says. "Jo will behave herself. I promise."

"Johanna's a big girl," I say, staring right at her. "She can make promises herself."

"Don't patronize me, Brainless," she says in a sickly sweet voice. "That's a road you don't want to go down."

I scoot my chair forward and pick up my spoon again. "You know, I didn't know how to feel about you when we first met." I break off a piece of bread and pop it into my mouth. "I was pretty sure that you just barely tolerated me. You probably still feel that way. But we're at war, Johanna. I'm not good with people, and I'm not good at making friends, but I know that we all need each other right now. We need allies, all of us. Even you. So I think it would be wise of you to try and be nice to people rather than driving them insane."

Finnick leans back in his chair and lets out a low whistle. "Well, well, well," he says. "There you are, Girl On Fire. We've missed you."

"Thanks for the words of wisdom," Johanna snaps, grabbing her tray and standing up so abruptly her chair falls over. "I'll be sure to remember them while I'm busy not giving a fuck."

"Aw, Jo," Finnick whines at her retreating back. "Don't be like that."

She ignores him as she marches out of the dining hall. A man stops her at the door, motioning to her tray of food, and she shoves him out of the way. I allow myself to feel guilty, but then I remember Peeta, and my anger returns.

"Don't worry about her," Finnick assures me. "She'll come around. You were right to say that."

"But she has had a rough time," Annie chimes in. "She doesn't mean to be so abrasive." She looks like she's about to say more, but then her eyes catch something above my head, and she starts humming a tune I don't recognize. Finnick must know it, because he smiles widely and kisses her nose.

Madge reaches across Gale and holds her notebook in front of my face.

You were too easy on her, in my opinion.

I shoot her a grateful smile.

"Well, it's been an eventful night as always," Gale announces, "but we have to get going. I have a meeting with Beetee and Madge has a doctor's appointment."

He stands and offers her a hand, which she accepts with a light blush. As they leave together, hand in hand, I'm suddenly acutely aware of how alone I am. I think about Peeta, about the way his breath felt on my face, and how his hand felt on my leg, burning my skin even through the thick fabric of my pants. Those moments had made my heart race, and not out of fear. This Peeta, this Capitol-engineered man who can't decide if he hates me or loves me, he is everything my Peeta wasn't. He is rough and vulgar and full of confusion and anger. He isn't gentle, he isn't kind. He's dangerous and unstable and yet, I can't help but find myself drawn to him.

Oh, shit, I think to myself. This isn't good.

I'm so thrilled with the amazing responses to this fic. You all have been so kind and enthusiastic, and I am so grateful. Thanks to my beta, the fabulous wollaston, who is always fabulous and a huge help.

If you have any questions or just want to chat, I'm on tumblr as 'ohalaskayoung'.

xoxo